


Of Hallots and Harricades

by Quietbang



Series: The New York Avengers [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Disability, Disabled Character, Disabled Queer Character, Disabled Sex, Enthusiastic Consent, M/M, Nipple Play, Porn With Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Realistic depictions of disability, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-07 23:24:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1917987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quietbang/pseuds/Quietbang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>and since there have been laws there've been criminals/ there have been thieves since there's been property</i> </p><p>Steve wins his first game with the Avengers, scoring two shots in the last quarter that were <i>fucking marvellous</i>. </p><p>Bucky thought so too. </p><p>A PWP showcasing the first time our boys have had sex since their injuries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Hallots and Harricades

**Author's Note:**

> What follows is part of my series _The New York Avengers_ , but has very little to do with basketball. What you get, instead, is some nipple play, self-image issues, realistic depictions of sex, and anal sex between a paraplegic and a guy with one arm and a very bad hip.  
> They make it work anyway.

They are both riding high on adrenaline when they get in. 

Bucky fumbles drunkenly with the keys, while Steve pops up on his back wheels and leans against the hallway wall. 

When Bucky drops them for the third time, Steve laughs aloud. 

Bucky turns, scowling. “Bit of help from the peanut gallery, huh? Or are you just going to keep laughing at my crippled ass all day?”

“Your ass ain’t crippled, Buck. It’s fucking _drunk_.” Steve shot back, before coming back onto all his wheels and picking the keys up from the ground. “Get outta my way, man. Watch how a professional does this.”

He misses on his first try. 

Ok, so maybe he’s a bit drunk too. 

Bucky smirks, and Steve doesn’t bother resisting the temptation to pull him down to his level and kiss the smirk right off his stupid face.  
And the angles are awkward, and they both taste of beer and sweat and blood, and after a moment Bucky pulls away regretfully. 

“Man, I am literally about to fall in your lap if you don’t give me a second, Rogers. “

Steve backs up, but only a little. 

It takes two more tries, but they make it into the apartment. Steve heads instantly for the washroom. He had showered at the venue, still high off of winning his first game- hell, of of fucking _scoring twice_ , the endorphins flooding his body with their old familiar song. It’s a light-headed fuzziness that Steve associates with successful missions, or, further back, with furtive handjobs behind the bleachers at Park East High.  
By the time he’s finished his program- it’s gotten much quicker since he started doing basketball, it definitely helps to know other men he can ask questions about the appropriate shortcuts for shoving things into his dick on the go- the sweet smell of coffee has filled the apartment, and when he rolls out to the kitchen Bucky is stirring copious amounts of condensed milk into two heavy enamel mugs. 

“You hungry?” he asks.

Steve considers a variety of cheesy responses, up to and including “only for you”. Chickening out, he settles on. “Coffee’s fine, Buck.”

Bucky sets both mugs on their Ikea kitchen table. There’s something different about him, and it makes Steve want to blush and duck his head like a schoolgirl. Instead, he opts to carefully inspect the peeling paint on the table’s surface. 

“Steve...”  
Steve looks up, and resists a shudder under the weight of his gaze.  
“You were fucking amazing tonight.” 

Steve blushes, and shrugs. This is the third time Bucky has said some variant of this, increasing with intensity with each post-game beer. 

“No lie,” he continues, and his voice is rough, “It was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. They should put you on a fucking recruitment poster, _Christ_.”

Steve smirks slowly, because he knows how to get a rise out of him. They’ve been playing this game, or something like it, for the better part of their shared lives. 

“Y’know...” Steve says, drawing the word out like molasses. “Doc Bartlett’s package came in the mail today.” 

Bucky’s eyes widen. “No way.”

Steve continues to smirk. 

“No fucking way! Damnit Steve, if you’d told me that earlier we’d never have gone to the fucking  
game. Have you tried it yet?”

“Nope,” Steve says, popping the ‘p’. “Waiting for you.”

Bucky’s eyelids flutter. “Oh, you massive bastard. Where is it?”

“Bedroom. Meet me there?”  
\---  
For all that it isa tiny apartment, Bucky does his best to make himself scarce while Steve does his ~~ preparations~~. 

A quick soap-up and check of the basement, if you will, plus a swig of mouthwash and a check in the mirror to make sure he doesn't look _too_ ridiculous. 

He hesitates before the mirror, his right hand tracing the indents the harness from his prosthesis makes on his shoulders. Undoing the strap, the prosthesis clatters onto the counter, and he carefully removes the thin layer of fabric covering his damaged shoulder. 

That, too, goes on the counter, although more gently. He always feels strangely off balance without it, and he finds himself instinctively grappling for a cane before he steels himself, tells himself that _no, Barnes, you fucking coward, you are going to walk in there on two feet as best you can and you are going to fuck the life out of that boy, you understand me?_ and exhales deeply. 

When he enters the bedroom, he sees to some shock that Steve hasn’t transferred yet, although he is naked. Bucky lets his eyes travel all over him, drinking him in. He knows Steve’s scars intimately, maps them at night when he can’t sleep, but- Christ. Basketball has actually given the guy an even _more_ ridiculous shoulder-to-waist ratio than he’d had before his injury, and although his belly is soft below the level of injury, his pecs are as solid as ever.  
Bucky gives into his impulses, and limps towards him. Sitting on the bed next to a brown paper box, he rests his head on Steve’s left shoulder.  
“  
Hey.” He says softly. 

“Hey.”

He turns slightly, nips at the outside of his shoulder. Steve shudders. 

Taking a deep breath, he turns fully. Running his hand over Steve’s chest, feeling the definition and the tangle of hair, he tweaks a nipple. 

This elicits a full-on gasp, and Bucky smirks. “Well. That’s never happened before.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Don’t tease, just do it agai- ah!” as Bucky tweaks it again before leaning in and lathing it deeply with his tongue. 

Steve bites his lip, his breath coming in gasps. “Yeah. That. Keep doing that.”

Bucky smiles slightly, lifting his head up from his project to kiss Steve deeply on the mouth.

“What do you wanna do with that new toy of yours, babe?”

Steve smirks, his breath still coming heavy and hard. “Wanna fuck you.”

Bucky feels his heart skip a beat. “Sounds good to me,” he says, hoping that his voice doesn’t actually sound as shaky as it does to himself. “How do you think we should do it?”

Steve frowns. He’d clearly been giving this a lot. “We’re gonna need a _lot_ of pillows. 

In the end, it doesn’t take long. Bucky is propped on his good side with Steve behind him, a piece of wedge-shaped foam keeping him in place. 

Bucky pushes himself up and grins at Steve.  
“Time to open the box?” 

The Device- as it would become known in their house, because god knows that’s better than “The Ejaculator” or whatever terrible medical name the company had given to it- looked a bit like Nat’s hair straightener, and Bucky smiled slightly at the image before focusing more intently at the task at hand. They’d demonstrated how to use it to both of them at the clinic, in what was definitely in the running for their most embarrassing doctor’s appointment in the history of either of their lives- but it was a bit different, now. 

Bucky squeezes a bit of lube in his hand, warming it slightly before pulling back the other man’s foreskin and gently taking the head between his thumb and forefinger. 

He pulls gently, until it was fully extended, before returning it to its flaccid state. 

It had been clinical- literally clinical, performing a charade of a hand job on Steve in a harshly lit hospital cubicle- the last time they had done this, and Bucky was beginning to think it was clouding his judgement. 

He lets Steve’s cock go, smiles slightly at the sight of it starting to swell in a parody of erection. 

He pushes himself up for a brief kiss, before returning to Steve’s nipples. He lathes them with his tongue; first one, then the other, sucking as hard as he could and eliciting the most ridiculous sounds- If he’d known that was all it took for boy to make those sorts of noises he would have done this years ago- focus. He needed to focus. 

He places the pads of the vibe on the head of Steve’s cock, then switches it on. 

The effect isn't instantaneous, except for Steve’s slightly sighed “--Aaaahh”

“That a good noise or a bad noise?”  
“Good?” another gasp “I think? Weird. I can’t really feel it in my cock, it’s more like in my head, and-- ah- yeah. Good. Definitely good. I take back everything I said a minute ago.”

His body is going red, flushed with heat. By the time Bucky removes the vibe, Steve's cock lies flat against his stomach, flushed purple and leaking. 

“That’s a good look on you, Steve.”

Steve smiles. “You too,” pointing at the obvious hard-on Bucky was sporting. “Can you skootch up here? I wanna prepare you.”

“Skootch might be the least sexy word ever, but I’ll see what I can do.” He is grinning, and so is Steve, and Steve’s eyes are glassy and he is flushed red and this is the happiest he had seen him in _months_ and Jesus Christ they must both look so ridiculous right now.

Steve inserts a single lubed finger and twists expertly. Bucky instinctively groans, and he doesn't need to look at Steve to know that he is smirking.  
A second finger, a third, and Bucky is panting and resisting the urge to buck his hips, to bear down hard against Steve’s hand until he is left with no choice but to fuck him with his fist, anything to get more pressure _inside him_. 

“On your side.” Steve says, and there is an authoritative growl in his voice that makes Bucky’s cock twitch.  
“Yes _sir_ ,” he murmurs as he slid down, impaling himself on Steve’s cock. He gasps as the hardness entered him, filling himm, so goddamned full, it was everything and it was happening all at once and  
“fucking _move_ , Buck.” 

And so he does, grasping Steve’s body with his arm as he moves them both up and down on the bed, rolling them closer with each thrust. There was sweat beading of Steve’s chest and Bucky’s breath was coming in harsh pants, a stacatto of _need-want-more-more_

With a groan he begins to pushharder, moving them both as one as he bears up against the pressure of Steve’s cock. 

Steve ismoaning, making little mewling sounds as he bites his lip against the groans. When Bucky looks up, there is blood flecked against his cheek and he isred all over, and then he can’t hold it in any longer and he groans loudly, doesn’t bother even trying to bite it off, and Bucky feels his hole flooded with heat. 

Steve takes a deep breath, then pulls Bucky towards him. 

Still impaled on him, Bucky turns so that he is almost lying _on_ Steve, his bad side and stump vulnerable in the open air. 

What follows is, without exaggeration, the most satisfying handjob of Bucky’s life. 

Afterward, as they are lying in their hot apartment, sticky with sweat and cum and blood, Steve shifts to look at Bucky. 

“How was it?” 

Bucky snorts. “How did it look?” 

“Hot, obviously. But you know what I mean. It didn’t-- hurt you?” 

He feels himself closing off. “No. No, of course not, Steve. I’d never let you hurt me if I didn’t want you to.” 

Steve nods, and closes his eyes. “I’m gonna try and get some sleep. I think I might actually manage without the pills tonight.” 

Bucky nods, and leans in to kiss him deeply.  
Afterwards, Bucky lies in the dark, staring at the pill bottles on the single side table. Counting the throbs in his hip, he thinks about sacrifice. 

**Author's Note:**

> The medical vibrator referenced is actually called the  Viberect X-3, becayse this erection needs a name befitting a fucking space shuttle, guys. They exist for women as well, but in that case are really just very strong vaginal vibes. In both cases, you need a prescription to get them, and they are sometimes covered by insurance. Usually only if you need them for baby-making purposes, because heterosexism.  
> Pillows are a VERY IMPORTANT part of disabled sex. Strangers tend to laugh when they see my bed- which is more pillow than bed- not realising that I need them all to do the nasty. Or, well, to prop myself up to do coursework, which is sadly more likely.  
> Pillows can prop unwilling limbs in places, raise or lower the vagina or butt for easier penetration, and preset spasm or discomfort. They do sell pillows specifically for this purpose, but I'm pretty sure some dense foam cut into a wedge and covered with a waterproof cover would work just as well.  
> Nipples often become more sensitive after spinal cord injury, and it's thought that the body is rerouting it's pleasure sensors to the areas with complete sensation.  
> I can also vouch for the fact that the sensation of orgasm is different with a SCI. It is a much more whole-body, fizzy, hot feeling as opposed to being centralised on the genitals. The more you know!


End file.
